


Of Movies and Men

by A_Simple_Peach



Category: Hamilton - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, M/M, movie theater AU, multi-chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-24 00:56:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7487052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Simple_Peach/pseuds/A_Simple_Peach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James is inspired by Thomas' enthusiasm over the movies he recommends and decides to keep coming back until he's watched aLL of them. Thomas notices this, and, as he falls in love with this adorable man, assumes it's because James is using the theater as an excuse to see him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Royal Theater

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is appreciated! I decided to use a mix of both their historical personalities and their musical personalities as a nod to the past and a bow to the present. Hope you enjoy!!

James Madison shivered as the crisp late-February air hit his face. He clicked the lock button on his car's remote three times, then pocketed the device and stared up at the building before him. 

The cozy building's stature reflected that of the small town in which it sat. Although the main structure was built with basic red bricks, there was a strong metal overhang displaying the theater's name and the new releases. The quaint little building was a flash of red, yellow, and white nestled in between a diner and a small clothing store. He'd browsed through the latter two buildings and discovered that they were refreshingly old-fashioned inside and out. He expected the Royal Theater to be no different.

A sharp breeze pulled him from his thoughts and reminded him to hurry. He pulled his coat tighter around himself and jogged up to the door.

As soon as he pushed the door open, James was blasted with the scent of fresh popcorn. To his dismay, it was no warmer inside the theater than it was out on the sidewalk. Even worse, there was a line for tickets. A big line. He glanced at his watch with a sigh. 3:45. There were only 15 minutes before the movie started. He hadn't imagined the little theater would be so busy. He hoped the previews before the movie would take long enough that he wouldn't miss anything in the actual movie.

The interior of the building was almost as classic as the exterior. The lobby was shaped like a square, though the walls were somewhat uneven as was typical of old buildings. Along the right wall were outdated arcade games to occupy children while their parents stood in line, dismally watching as all their change went into the machines. On the left wall were the restrooms, which would be unsightly if it weren't for the red canopies over each door. Ahead of him stood the concession stand, though he couldn't see it properly through all the people waiting in line and milling about. He found himself wishing he were taller.

13 minutes later, he finally made it to the front of the line. There before him stood the tallest man James had ever seen. Muscles rippling, eyes glistening, all enhanced by a smile so bright and white it elicited a smile from even the grumpiest of people. James had never understood why some people would compare another's skin tone to a mocha latte, but now he was graced with the presence of the perfect example.

"Hello, and welcome to the Royal Theater, where we guarantee a rich movie-watching experience," sang a jazzy voice with just a touch of southern charm, "I'm Thomas, how can I help you?"

James gulped and slid his gaze from Thomas' crossed arms up to his smiling face. "J-just one ticket for the Les Miserables movie, please."

"Oh that's a good movie. D'ya know how I know that?" Thomas asked with an expectant smirk, obviously wanting an answer.

The shorter man glanced at his watch and sighed. "Why? Er, h-how do you know, I mean?"

Thomas put his hands on the counter and slowly leaned forward, his chiseled features gradually splitting into an even bigger grin that practically screamed "this is a joke and you are gonna HATE the punchline!" Mere inches of space remained between their faces when he stopped. Popcorn soda and sweat - the smells of his line of work - lightly brushed across James' nose as Thomas whispered, "'Cause all the tickets are sold out already."

He leaned back with a self-satisfied smirk and a slight nod of his head. James, no longer entranced by the way Thomas' muscles rippled when he crossed his arms, gave him a hard look. Then, turned around and headed for the door. Funny how being the butt-end of a joke washes away attraction.

"What? No, wait!" Thomas sputtered out. "Where're you going? Stop!"

James ignored him. He looked around helplessly, searching for a way to convince the little man to come back. The familiar frustrated voice of his manager called from the back room. 

"What are you shouting about this time?"

"Aaron, do something, he's leaving!"

"First of all, that's Mr. Burr, to you. Second of all, no."

The wooden door creaked a bit as it opened.

"Free popcorn?"

One foot stepped out onto the sidewalk.

"We'll give you a ticket for a different movie for free!"

James hesitated. Slowly, he turned around. Thomas had an apologetic smile on his face - did he express every emotion with a smile? - and a wad of tickets in his hand. He raised an eyebrow.

"This isn't another joke, is it?" he questioned warily.

"No, of course not! Gahzooks, you're really sensiti- no, wait! I... I-I'm sorry! It ain't a joke!" He quickly recovered as James had turned to the door again.

James glanced around and blushed. Everyone in the lobby was staring at him. A trio of women plus one large man in a beanie giggled at him as he made his way to the counter.

"Ok, well, what movies are showing?"

"Oh, we got tons of movies showing. We got action movies, drama movies, sci-fi, thriller, suspense-"

As he rambled on, James' gaze shifted from the other man's face to his arms, his thoughts following suit. Thomas had good arms. Like, really good arms. He blushed again as he wondered what it would be like to be hugged by those arms. Intuition told him that Thomas was probably a hugger.

"-and horror!" Thomas finished with a flourish of those tremendous arms, dragging James back to reality. "What's your favorite genre?"

Before he could reply, Thomas glanced behind him and spoke again.

"Sorry, valued customers, y'all are gonna have to be patient!"

The line behind James stretched out to the door. He shivered, though from the cold or their angry faces he wasn't sure. Either way, he was bound to catch a cold. Again. James always did have a terrible immune system.

"So? Your favorite genre?"

"I don't have a favorite genre."

"Favorite movie?"

"I-I don't-"

"Favorite actor? Favorite director? What were the last ten movies you watched? What were you hoping to see in Les Mis? What- oh, you're shaking! Hold up a sec-" he vaulted the counter and placed his hand on James' forehead, mumbling something about his face being red earlier.

James didn't want to explain that he was just really nervous with all the questions, so he hurriedly tried to distract the other man.

"Well, u-um, I just, er, w-what are you favorite movies?" out of the corner of his eye he saw the theater's manager - Mr. Burr, was it? - opening a second line to make up for Thomas' lack of work.

Thomas' face brightened immediately at the question. "Well, shucks, if you really wanna know, I love the Avengers movies, the Bee Movie, this one documentary about Virginia I saw, then there's-"

He went on and on. There didn't seem to be any correlation between any of the movies he suggested, even when he went on to describe his favorite parts. James had just about stopped shaking, thank goodness Thomas had the attention span of a stoned fruit fly. He was waving his arms around sporadically as he talked. Burr was glaring at him and James realized with a glance at his watch that he had been talking for half an hour.

"-it was completely unnecessary that Natasha and Bruce-"

"Thomas?"

"Yeah?"

"How about you just write a few down for me? I really should be going..."

"Oh, no problem, great idea, I'll do that!" 

Thomas' unfairly poofy hair bounced a bit as he rushed around for a pen and paper. He handed the finished list to James with yet another beautiful smile. He tried not to think about how much Thomas looked like a child showing his parents his Christmas wish-list. He couldn't help but return the smile, mentally forgiving him for his mean joke earlier.

"You can still have that free ticket when you come back!"

"Thank you, goodbye!" smiled James as he left.

"It's about time!" shouted a man who had stubbornly chosen to stay in that line rather than move to the one Burr had opened.

As he climbed into his nice warm Nissan, he decided that he would come back. If Thomas loved these movies so much than they must be worth watching.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Burr, did you see that man who came in earlier?!" Thomas asked.

Burr sighed. They had just seen the last patron out and were starting to clean up. He knew Thomas had been wanting to talk about the sensitive little man since he'd left, and Burr just wanted to get it over with and go home.

"Yes," he grunted.

"He was so tiny!" Thomas was acting like a lovesick teenager; he was practically vibrating and Burr wondered if he'd actually explode. "Did you see his face when I told him he'd still get a free ticket when he comes back?"

"If he comes back."

"He smiled at me! It wAS SO- wait, what?" He frowned. "Wha'd'ya mean?"

Burr shrugged. "He didn't tell you his name, right?"

"What're you implying?" when Burr didn't answer, he continued, "Come on, he'll be back!"

"Maybe. You did invade his personal space, though. And nearly scared him off immediately."

Thomas pouted and swept up some discarded popcorn. Burr decided to drive the nail home.

"Don't get too attached. You don't even know if he likes men."

Thomas dropped the broom with a clatter.


	2. Strategic Romantics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas realizes he needs to be smart if he's going to win James over. Burr needs more help around the theater since Thomas has been slacking. James just wants to cash in his free ticket. What could go wrong?

The light bulbs lining the sign on the front of the theater flashed one by one, seeming to flow in a natural rhythm. Their job was to draw the attention of passers-by to the featured movies, and the movies were written there to entice any and all people into stepping inside. Once inside, they would be drawn to the many expensive snacks - including the classic popcorn - and spend their money on it. Even the movie itself, kicked off by a string of loud previews for other movies, was a marketing strategy. It was designed to bring you back another day. All in all, the theater was a trap. James still felt that there was something charming about the place, despite its tricks. He shook his head and his mouth twitched into a brief smirk, because didn't all tricky things have a certain charm to them? 

Thomas. Thomas was very charming, and he'd left James with a list of movies to watch and promised to pay for his ticket. Singular. Just one ticket. James knew he would come back and watch all of the movies on the list despite only being promised one free ticket. Even so, Thomas didn't seem like a snake in disguise. He seemed genuine. His smile was genuine, his eyes were genuine, the muscles of his arms and the flutter in James' heart whenever he thought of Thomas were genuine. 

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the welcoming wooden door open. There wasn't as much of a line today, thankfully, so James wouldn't have to wait long before he made it to the front. He checked his watch. 8:20. The first movie on the list, The Avengers, was due to start in forty minutes. That was plenty of time, since Thomas would likely ramble on forever again. 

As soon as Thomas saw him, he smiled. 

”Hello, is the offer for a free ticket still up?” he asked awkwardly. 

”Of course! What’re you gonna watch?” Oh, how James had missed that voice, even though he’d just heard it the day before. 

”The Avengers, pl-” 

”Great choice! I love that movie!” 

James chuckled a bit. “Y-yeah, I know…” 

”Want some popcorn to go with it? Or some candy? Or both? Maybe a drink? We have lots of soda!” Thomas was already filling a large container with popcorn and melted butter. 

James thought he could hear his wallet crying as Thomas also grabbed a large Coca-Cola and several boxes of candy. He ignored it, eager to watch the way those muscles rippled with every movement. How that glorious smile stayed in place even though the large man bumped into everything - no seriously, everything, including Burr - as he clattered around the small space. He hummed Jingle Bells as he worked, and James found it almost as obnoxious - it was almost March! - as it was endearing. 

”Alright, I set you up with my favorite snacks. We got coke, jelly beans, dots, those minty candies- oh, they’re called junior mints, thanks Burr! And we got-” he was theatrically pointing to each box as he mentioned them. 

Burr rolled his eyes and sighed, then opened a second line again. James watched with apprehension as Thomas talked. There was no way he was buying all that candy. But, it made Thomas so happy… 

”Uh, Thomas?” Thomas looked up at the mention of his name. “I really can’t afford all that candy…” 

”Oh that reminds me! You never told me your name?” he burst out. 

”Thomas,” Burr was glaring at him, “he says he doesn’t want all that candy. Be a good employee and put some back.” 

”I’ll just take the popcorn, thanks,” James said and stuck out his hand, “a-and my name is James.” 

”And I’m Thomas!” they shook hands. 

”You’re something alright,” Burr said with a shake of his head, “Back to work!” 

James tried not to think about how warm Thomas’ hand was. He definitely wasn’t marveling at the strength with which his hand was squeezed. There was no way he noticed that his hand fit perfectly inside the other man’s. 

”Wow, Jemmy, you have a strong grip!” His heart certainly didn’t thump upon hearing that. 

Uttering a hurried ‘thank you’, he pulled his hand back and paid for his popcorn. A glance at his watch told him that he’d spent thirty minutes talking to Thomas. As expected. Burr stopped him on his way down the hall. 

”You don’t have to eat the popcorn if you don’t want to,” he said, his nose wrinkled in disgust. 

”What do you mean?” James raised an eyebrow. 

Burr just nodded vaguely and went back to work. That man was full of mysteries. James quickly found a seat and waited. A young looking man with freckles sat next to him. He looked at the bucket-sized container of popcorn in James’s lap with disgust and moved to sit a few seats away. Soon, he was joined by another young man with dark brown hair and a goatee. James ignored them as the previews started playing. 

He wanted to save the popcorn for during the movie, but it reminded him of Thomas’ unfairly handsome face. Soon, he realized that he wouldn’t be able to pay attention to the movie with those sorts of thoughts in his head. He ate to forget. 

Immediately upon putting the first bite in his mouth he was filled with horror. He suddenly understood why Burr and the freckled man didn’t like the popcorn. 

It wasn’t melted butter Thomas had mixed into it. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

”Thomas, we need to talk.” 

Burr had pulled him into the employee lounge behind the concession stand. It was relatively quiet, since The Avengers was the last movie for the day. With no customers waiting to buy something, this was the perfect opportunity to take a break. For Thomas, that break was filled with him worrying if he was about to lose his job. That meant being very careful with his choice of words. 

”Yes, Mr. Burr, sir?” he asked innocently. 

But Burr was no fool. 

”You have been slacking off in your duties lately. Can’t you run a simple register without having hour-long conversations with everyone?” Noting the tone Burr took, Thomas decided not to point out that it was only with Jemmy. 

”I understand, sir. I’ll work harder.” 

Burr waited, but Thomas didn’t say anymore. He just nervously tugged at his red uniform. The manager sighed, then spoke. 

”I’ve been looking for new employees for a while now, anyway,” Thomas looked up in shock. “Two employees just isn’t enough to run a whole theater. Even if we only have two movies showing at a time.” 

Thomas relaxed a bit. That was true; both men were often running on little to no sleep. They’d resorted to napping in-between shifts. With only two people, they’d had hardly any time to do anything besides work. Their ushers were all volunteers, and one could never be sure when - and if - they’d arrive. Neither man had expected so many customers would visit their little Royal Theater, so originally two employees had seemed reasonable. Now, it was clear that that wasn’t the case. 

”Luckily,” Burr continued. “someone has recently applied for the job. I hired him right on sight. I think you two will get along just fine.” 

The other man’s heart thumped roughly as he realized that last sentence was not a casual remark, but a warning. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

”He said that?! He didn’t even tell you why??” Chuckled a rumbling voice. 

The movie had just ended. James couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy it, although it wasn’t easy to follow since he’d never watched any Marvel movies before. It didn’t help that the two men who’d sat near him were having a surprisingly interesting conversation the whole time. About 15 minutes into the previews, two more men had joined them: the large man with the beanie who had laughed at him yesterday and a tall frenchman who looked suspiciously like Thomas. The man in the beanie recognized James and immediately invited him to join their little group. 

”Exactly, Hercules. It was so vague and unhelpful!” James replied and the whole group laughed uproariously. 

They seemed to be regulars there, since some people saw them and had immediately gotten up and left the theater. Hercules had grabbed their abandoned snacks for himself. He only shared with James, announcing that it was “new guy’s privilege” to have a few bites. James had been nervous at first, but they’d all gotten along surprisingly well. 

”Aw, c’mon, man. I said you could call me Herc! Don’t be a stranger!” 

”Maybe if you gave him some of your normal-people popcorn he would call you Herc?” the frenchman, Lafayette, chimed in with a snicker. 

”I can’t believe he survived that other stuff.” put in John Laurens, the freckled one. 

”Preach it, John!” added Alexander Hamilton, the man with the goatee who always agreed with John. 

Why on earth would Thomas put cheese in his popcorn? Why did they have cheese back there anyway? James decided to ask Thomas the next time they talked. 

”So, this Thomas guy, do you know him very well?” Alexander asked, sliding over to stand next to James. 

”No, I just met him yesterday. He seems nice, though.” Especially nice to look at, he thought. 

”Oh? And why were you sitting all alone?” 

John was beet red, eyebrows twitching with rage. James blushed as he caught on to what Alexander was implying. Before anyone could react, Alex was shoved aside. 

”Hey, there Jemmy! Did’ya enjoy the movie?” Sang that familiar jazzy voice. 

”Yes, thank you for suggesting it,” James noticed John slapping Alex out of the corner of his eye. 

”Why is it always like this with you? I am literally right here and you openly flirt with another man??” John screamed as Thomas nodded imperiously. 

Strangely, Lafayette seemed to be missing. Maybe he went to the bathroom. He did drink a lot of Cola earlier. 

”Come on, Jemmy, it’s past midnight, you must be tired.” 

James blushed at that nickname and nodded his agreement. He and Thomas began walking towards the door. As soon as they entered the lobby, James shivered. He was definitely going to catch a cold. 

”Oh, are you cold? D’ya wanna borrow my coat?” 

Before James could answer, Thomas rushed off towards the back room. He sighed and shook his head. His heart fluttered a bit in his chest. Of course he fell for this man. So full of energy, so happy, so kind, so handsome. At the same time, this was the man who put cheese in popcorn. 

He returned, carrying a bright fuchsia coat. James’ jaw dropped. 

”Here you go!” Thomas helped James put it on. 

It was warm, but far too big for him. He carefully buttoned it, feeling the soft velvet lining. He had to get out of here. 

”Thank you. Goodbye, Thomas!” he called as he left. 

”Bye, Jemmy!” Thomas waved after him. 

Burr shook his head. When Thomas had told him of his plan earlier, he hadn’t thought it would work. Getting him to borrow his coat so he’d have to come back; it was ridiculous. And yet, the little guy had accepted the coat. They were both ridiculous. 

Thomas watched the group of four men who had been bothering James leave. His eyes rested on the one who had flirted with Jemmy. He tried to project all his hatred onto him. He hoped he'd never have to see him again. Burr caught him staring and frowned. 

”I hope you’re not planning to kill your new co-worker.” 

For the second day in a row, Thomas felt his dreams shattering.


	3. Sick People or Sick of People?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James has caught the dreaded cold. Thomas and Alex fight a lot and John returns, angry as usual. Poor Burr can never catch a break.

Boom!

Thunder pealed and rain poured outside the humble apartment complex in which James lived. 

Achoo!

He sneezed again. He’d been sneezing all morning. It was as if his nose had picked a fight with the sky, both trying to be the loudest and shake the world the hardest. It was a miserable day for James as both seemed to be tied and neither seemed likely to stop until there was a clear winner. He wiped his nose, pink from his cold, with a sigh.

Curled up on the couch, he was wrapped in a blanket and several pillows. There were numerous discarded tissues on the floor around him. He couldn’t seem to get warm enough. In the midst of his thoughts, searching for warmth, he remembered Thomas. It had been almost three days since he’d last seen him. What he wouldn’t give to be wrapped in those large arms right now… And his hair looked so soft, he wanted to touch it.

“No, no, no. You are sick, this is no time to be gay,” James thought to himself.

Suddenly, he remembered the coat. That large, fuchsia coat that Thomas let him borrow. Willing himself to get up, he decided that would be better to be wrapped in than the blankets he had. It was very soft, after all. It smelled nice, too…

“James Madison, Jr; what did we just get through talking about?” He chastised himself again, “I’m just getting the coat because it’s warmer. That’s it.”

As he pulled it off the coat rack, he heard a soft rustling sound. There was a piece of paper on the floor under his foot. Maybe it had fallen out of one of the coat’s pockets? He picked it up and looked at it.

There was a phone number scrawled across it, under the words “Thomas Jefferson - Call me!!”

James smiled.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s been three days.

“Hey, Thomas?”  
And still, the new guy plagues him.

“Yes, Alexander?”

James hasn’t returned. Burr thinks he sold the coat.

“I like your hair. Where’d you buy it?”

Thomas and Alexander had formed a mutual hatred. It started as a bit of jealousy, but quickly escalated as they learned that their personalities were like oil and water.

“You should know, you bought yours from the same place!”

They did not mix. Alexander seemed to enjoy fighting with him, but Thomas constantly wanted to set himself on fire. Burr was already realizing that the two men were not fit to work together. 

“Mr. Burr! Thomas is yelling at me!”

“You’re a grown man, Alex. Get back to work.”

At the end of every shift, Thomas had to drive back home in the cold. Ever since Jemmy took his coat he’s felt the chill air far more than he ever used to. Though it wasn’t the absence of the coat that caused this. It was the absence of the man.

He hadn’t gotten a call from him, yet. Burr said he probably never would. Alex said he hoped he never would. Didn’t he find the note, yet? Maybe he was still upset about the cheese thing. In any case, Thomas was more than happy to blame Alexander for it.

He served the final customer in line and went to the back room to take a break. Tossing and turning on the couch, it was clear he wasn’t going to get a nap in. If only Jemmy were here, he thought with a frown. Sleeping alone was lonely. 

Sitting up with a sigh, he checked his phone. There was a single notification on the screen:

Missed Call (3)

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Of course he didn’t answer. It had been three days, that was far too long. He was probably mad that he waited so long. Or maybe he’d only left the note as a joke. Or he saw the unknown number on the screen and ignored it, thinking it was a telemarketer. He called three times, though, so shouldn’t Thomas have realized that it was James?

It’s not like he was in love or anything. He just liked Thomas’ voice, his smile, his arms- ok, maybe a little bit. But, he hardly knew him. This was made painfully obvious as he remembered the cheese incident and the fuchsia coat. The man was full of mysteries, and James realized that he had a long way to go before he really understood him. He still hadn’t heard him laugh. James would bet anything that it was a beautiful laugh. Something clearer and more beautiful than the tolling of the Liberty Bell.

Turning his phone off, he returned to his misery. 

Achoo! Achoo!

Maybe tomorrow he’ll go out and buy more tissues.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Burr stepped out of the back room and into yet another Thomas vs Alex battle. He turned around to go back, but it was too late. They spotted him.

“Mr. Burr, sir, can you fire Thomas?” Alex asked quickly.

“No, Aaron, fire him! All he does is flirt with the patrons.” Thomas shoved Alex out of the way as he spoke.

“Not true!”

“Oh, if the shoe fits, wear it!”

“Both of you, shut up and get back to work.” Burr was already wondering how fast he could find replacements for these two.

“How come you never pick a side?” Alex shouted at him.

Thomas knew Aaron Burr well enough that if he said “get back to work” he meant “I would rather ignore you but you’re crossing the line.” He smirked and started scrubbing the counter while Alex got “the lecture.”

“Alex, I’d like to see you in my office. Now.”

Alex still didn’t catch on and shouted at Burr the whole way to Burr’s office. Thomas shook his head and whistled. He almost felt bad for the guy. If you actually managed to get Burr talking, he was a force to be reckoned with. Nothing was more traumatizing than Burr’s infamous lectures.

“SHOWTIME SHOWTIME YO!” 

Almost nothing.

The duo of loud-mouthed bothers raced each other to the counter. The freckled one got there first, though everyone knew the large one with the beanie let him win. John Laurens was not someone you wanted to anger. Mostly because he was annoying when angry. 

“Where’s Alex?” asked John.

Thomas wouldn’t normally answer, having had a conversation with the group the day before. He didn’t really get along with them. But, John had the expression he often got whenever he was deeply and completely enraged. Thomas smiled.

“He’s in the back getting roasted by our manager, Burr.” 

“When can I talk to him?” 

John had curly hair, but he always kept it in a tight ponytail. Now, it was pulled back hurriedly and most of it was loose. That Alexander Hamilton must have done something bad.

“It’s hard to say. I might be able to get him back out here sooner if this is important?”

John’s freckles were partially obscured by the red tinge of rage that dusted his face. It was kinda cute, but he wasn’t Thomas’ type. Not for the first time that day, his thoughts drifted to Jemmy.

“He was flirting with Eliza, again. That important enough for you?” he turned a shade darker as he spoke.

“That depends, is he always this thirsty?”

“Yes!!!” John was redder than a beet, now. 

Maybe he’ll blow a blood vessel. Thomas was beginning to enjoy this conversation.

“Why do you stay with him if he’s so horrible?” 

John froze. He looked at his shoes. Hercules awkwardly excused himself to go look for someone named Laf. There was silence. Suddenly, John took a deep breath and for one terrifying moment Thomas thought he was going to start crying. But, he just looked up at him, his face completely clear of rage and set like stone.

“Because, I love him,” a pause, “Hey, when he comes back, will you tell him I forgive him?” 

Thunderstruck, Thomas only nodded. John took another deep breath, mumbled a “thank you”, then turned around and left. Everyone in the lobby stared after him in shock and awe as he left, then turned questioningly to Thomas. He shrugged and went back to work. 

“Did… did he just say he forgives me?”

Thomas jumped in fright. How long had Alex been standing there? He turned around to make a crack about his goatee but froze when he caught Alex’s expression. His eyes were wide and hopeful, his mouth slightly open in shock, and he had a subdued look about him. What had Thomas gotten himself into? He swallowed.

“Yes. He… he did.” 

Alex covered his mouth, eyes widening in surprise. A new happiness radiated off him.

“Thank you, Thomas.”

Suddenly, Thomas hated Alex a little bit less. Maybe he was only obnoxious and aggressive because of the stress of a crumbling relationship? He doubted that but it was nice to believe for just a few minutes. 

This was definitely not how he thought his day would go when he woke up that morning.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The birds were chirping, the sun was shining, James’ cold was a bit better, and the coffee was ready. It seemed like today would be better than yesterday. He even felt well enough to go out to the store to pick up those tissues.

He locked his apartment door behind him and started down the stairs. He passed a tall man with poofy hair on the way down. Funny, he almost looked like-

“Jemmy?”

James spun around.

“Thomas?”


	4. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas is irresponsible with his job again, Burr and Alex decide to be bros, Jemmy is still sick, and Lafayette is missing again.

“Jemmy? What are you doing here?” asked Thomas incredulously.

He was at the top of the stairs and James was at the bottom. Both wished the gap between them was smaller, but neither moved to close it. They were separated by confusion and hesitation.

“I live here,” James bit his lip, “Why are you here?”

“I live here, too.”

“Oh.”

A silence flowed between them, cooler than the early-March air. It drifted like a breeze and floated like a cloud. Thicker than fog and intimidating as thin ice over a deep lake. James shivered and sneezed. Thomas warily approached him, stopping when he noticed the coat.

“You’re wearing my coat?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Did you get my note?” James looked up in surprise.

“Yes, I tried calling you yesterday. Three times, actually.” he chuckled nervously as he spoke.

Thomas smiled wider than the gap between them and grabbed him in a big hug. It was just as wonderful and warm as James had dreamed it would be.

“When you didn’t answer, I thought…” he mumbled into the larger man’s chest, “I thought maybe you didn’t want to talk to me anymore…”

“No way! I’ve been waiting for you to call me for days! Burr said you probably sold my coat and I’d never see you again.”

“Nonsense.”

They stayed like that for what felt like forever and never all at once. Then, far too late and all too soon, James sneezed and Thomas let him go. 

“Gahzooks, are you sick? If you want, we can go back to my place and get you some tissues?” he suggested.

“I don’t want you to get sick, too-”

“Me? Get sick? Pssht, naw. I have the strongest immune system on the planet!!” he struck a heroic pose as he spoke.

James shook his head. “Well, ok, then.”

“Great!!”

Thomas grabbed hold of James’ hand and rushed him up to his apartment, rambling on about macaroni.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Where’s Thomas?” Burr asked a little too calmly considering the circumstance.

He and Alex were working in the Royal Theater and the patrons were arriving in droves to see the new Disney movie. The small building was packed within an hour of opening. Both men were in a frenzy trying to keep up, but there seemed to be a never-ending flow of impatient parents and kids (and college students) trying to buy their tickets and snacks. They had to refill the popcorn machine four times already. Yet, in the entire sea of people pushing their way through the lobby, not one of them was Thomas.

“I don’t know. Maybe he died.” Alex replied, handing a large family their equally large popcorn.

“Alexander!”

“Do I look like that idiot’s keeper to you?” 

“I thought you two were friends now.”

“We’re not. We just took a break from fighting to sort some things out.” 

“I’m going to call him. I’m sorry, you’ll have to handle this on your own while I do that. I’ll give you a raise.”

“No problem, Mr. Burr, sir!” 

Burr rushed to his office and punched the number into his phone. It rang three times before a jazzy “yo, T. Jeff speaking” reached his ears.

“Thomas, we need you to get us out of the mess we’re in. Where have you been?”

“Uh.. home?”

“Tell him to get his cheesy butt back to work!” Alexander shouted from around the corner.

“Get back to work!” 

“But-”

“Now, Thomas. That’s an order from your manager.” Burr hung up before he could say anything he might regret.

When he returned to the counter, he saw that the place was spotless and, even more surprisingly, empty. Alex waved at him, grinning. Burr’s jaw dropped in awe.

“So, when do I get that raise?”

Burr had a feeling he would get along with this guy just fine.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thomas sighed and put his phone in his pocket. He looked fondly at Jemmy, who was curled up on the couch with a hot bowl of homemade mac and cheese. Laying his blanket over him, he told him he had to go to work.

“You can stay here, though. I don’t mind. There are movies on the shelf if you wanna watch something.”

James, already half-asleep, simply nodded and pulled the coat tighter around him. Thomas hesitated a moment, then wrote a quick note for Jemmy to read when he was more awake. He cast one final glance back before closing the door behind him.

It was a short drive to the theater from his house. When he pulled up, he noticed that the entire parking lot was full. A quick drive around the area showed that all the nearby parking lots were full, too. He had to drive to the next town over to find a parking spot, and the walk back was dreadful. Gahzooks, was Thomas in for it, now. He shouldn’t have skipped work that day at all, but he didn’t think it would be that much of a problem since the theater never had many people. He couldn’t remember the last time it was this busy. In fact, Thomas didn’t think it ever had been so bad that the parking lot filled up. He swallowed fearfully as he realized he could very well be fired for this.

When he finally got there, he took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

“I am so sorry, Burr, I-” 

He froze. The place was deserted. An eerie silence filled the lobby. Slowly, he stepped forward towards the concession stand.

“Hello?” he called.

He was reminded of popular horror movie tropes as he took a step inside. Creepy, empty, old building, saying “hello” when you can’t see anyone, discarded popcorn - it was frightening. He decided to look around, no problem since the lights were still working. As long as he was quiet-

Crash!

Breaking into a dead sprint, he went back outside, nearly knocking Hercules Mulligan down in the process.

“What’re you doin’?” he yelled, straightening his beanie.

“Herc, everyone is gone!” Thomas gasped out between breaths, “You gotta help me find them!”

“Huh. Laf’s missin’, too.”

“Who?”

“Maybe they’re all just watchin’ a movie?” Herc shrugged and walked to the door.

“Burr would never leave the stand unattended!”

“You comin’ or not?”

After a brief hesitation, Thomas reluctantly followed Hercules into the theater. He knew he’d be ashamed of his actions later, but right now he was sure that everyone was abducted by aliens, so there was no time for that now. Herc pushed opened the front door, no fear of imminent alien invasions whatsoever. He cupped his hand to his mouth and shouted:

“YO, MARIE-JOSEPH PAUL YVES ROCH GILBERT DU MOTIER DE LAFAYETTE, WHERE YOU AT?” 

Burr emerged from behind the counter with Alex, both laughing their stupid heads off.

All his fear turned to a vengeful wrath as he realized that they had been there all along.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

James awoke on a large pink couch. On the ground in front of him was an empty bowl, the remnants of the mac and cheese stuck to the sides. He carefully pushed himself up to a seated position. He was still in Thomas’ apartment. Stretching deeply, he stood up and looked for his… friend. Instead, he found a note. It said:

Had to go to work, didn’t wanna wake you. There’s more mac and cheese on the stove and several (good!) movies on the shelf.   
~Thomas Jefferson

Suddenly, the door slammed open.

“Jemmy, are you awake!?” shouted a familiar jazzy voice from behind him.

“I am now.” 

“Oh, sorry. Turns out they just wanted to play a prank on me, can you believe it? Anyway, d’ya wanna watch a movie?”

“Sure.”

Thomas walked towards the movie shelf and paused. Slowly, he turned to face James.

“Hey, uh…”

He took a deep breath, then continued.

“I… I really… see you’re just… I’ve been wanting to say this for a while and… well... ” 

James’ brow furrowed in confusion. Thomas closed the gap between them and cupped James’ face in his hands.

“Jemmy, I love you.”

After James processed the confession, he blushed and whispered his response.

“I love you, too.”


	5. Schuyler Diner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE MOMENT YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR: FIRST DATE TIME!

James admired his reflection in the mirror. He was dressed up in a pair of nice black pants and a white button down shirt covered by a black vest. Nothing too fancy, but not necessarily casual either. A smile seemed to be permanently fixed to his face ever since his first date with Thomas was scheduled. He had to be the luckiest man on the planet! If you left out the cheese incident, at least. Thomas was supposed to pick him up for dinner any minute now-

Knock Knock!

Giddy with excitement, James rushed to the door and swung it open. Thomas stood outside, wearing a smile so full it seemed to dance in his eyes. James’ eyes trailed down from his boyfriend’s face down to his clothing of choice. A full three piece suit, all of it varying shades of pink velvet, and in his right hand he held a cane to complete the style. James shook his head and grinned even wider. What else would he have worn? 

“Are you ready to go, darling?” Thomas asked happily.

“Ready when you are!” James knew his face was flushed from the term of endearment Thomas used, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Thomas led him out to his red cube car (what kind of person actually drives cube cars?) and opened the door for him. Once they were seated and buckled up, Thomas began to drive. James wasn’t sure where they were going, as Thomas had wanted to surprise him, but he wasn’t worried about it. Until he thought about the cheese incident. James was lactose intolerant.

The car seats had fuzzy pink seat-covers over them. There were fuzzy pink gangster dice hanging from the rear-view mirror. The music Thomas played over the speaker was just as eclectic as his taste in movies. Bubblegum pop, hard rock, techno, indie, punk, a Taylor Swift song or two; James inwardly groaned when Allstar by Smashmouth played three times in a row. He did like the Twenty-One Pilots songs that came on, however. He decided to look them up later.

Of course, no matter what song came on, Thomas was always whistling Jingle Bells. Why? It was the 4th of March. 

They parked in the theater’s parking lot and walked around to the front. James blinked. Were they actually going to the theater? Was Thomas actually bringing him to his workplace for a date? 

But, they walked right past it and stood facing the Schuyler Diner instead. It was a nice little place, there was a charming atmosphere about it which was strong enough that it needed no welcome mat. The building was made of wood that was old but strong. James had been inside once before, but didn’t buy anything. He had just wanted to browse, then. Knowing that on the inside awaited the tantalizing scent of classic southern meals made from scratch and served fresh filled him with determination. They stepped inside to see the most stereotypical diner a person could find outside of hollywood movies.

“Welcome, kehds, what can I get you?” greeted the thick Boston accent of the woman behind the counter.

With a smile, James remembered the last time he was here. The woman had seen him leave without buying anything and had plenty to say about it. He hadn’t understood most of the slang, but, nonetheless, the message got across.

“Hey, Angel, how ya been?” Thomas asked with a wave. 

“Business is good, as usual. I see you’ve found yourself a wicked pissa man?” Angelica laughed. “Hey, wait a minute, I know you! You’re that short fella what came in here for the grand openin’ but didn’t eat anything! You ain’t gonna get away with that again, y’hear?” she waved her spoon at James threateningly.

Thomas laughed uproariously. “He ain’t payin’ this time either, Angel, we’re on a date so I’m buyin’!”

She shrugged. “As long as one o’ yous guys orders somethin’. It’ll be the same song an’ dance for you, I expect.” she turned around and shouted, “PEGS! BURN THE BRITISH AND DRAW ONE IN THE DARK! What’ll you have, little mush?”

James gulped. “Um… what’s the special for today?” he hoped it wasn’t murder.

Instead of explaining the special, Angelica turned back around and shouted again, “ADAM AND EVE ON A RAFT AND WRECK ‘EM”

Thomas laughed again, and James joined in nervously.

“Alright, Jemmy, let’s find a seat!”

He immediately rushed to a booth by the window with James following behind, hoping the terms were diner lingo and not a murderous plot. His mind conjured an image of two British people tied up in the kitchen, their horrible fates set in stone...

James stared into Thomas’ eyes, knowing he was safe there. Knowing he could easily lose himself and his worries inside the luscious brown irises.

“We’ll order dessert later. I wonder what you got?” Thomas leaned his elbows on the table.

The door swung open with a crash.

“MARIE-JOSEPH PAUL YVES ROCH GILBERT DU MOTIER DE LAFAYETTE, WHERE YOU AT?”

“Your boy’s gone missin’ again, has he?” Angelica asked Hercules sympathetically.

“Yeah, has he been here?” 

“He just went to the can, maybe give him a minute, kehd.” she laughed again.

James caught Hercules’ eye and waved. He waved back and started towards their booth, flashing them both a hearty grin.

“Hey, wassup? I see you two knuckleheads finally got together?”

“Yeah, I’m lucky enough to win the lottery!” Thomas answered, causing James to smile.

“Hope you’re lucky enough to find Laf? He’s always disappearing, y’know.”

“Who’s Laf?”

Herc and James looked at him in stunned silence. 

“He’s the Frenchman? Tall, dark, and handsome?” Herc explained. “You really never met him?”

Thomas shook his head. Herc squinted at him. 

“Y’know, you two do look an awful lot alike.” he mumbled, “I don’t think anyone’s ever seen you two in the same room together, either…”

Silence.

A tall man with a ponytail walked up behind Hercules.

“Ah, there you are, Herc! I ‘ave been waiting for you to show up!” the Frenchman crossed his arms in front of his red shirt, which had a picture of a herring on it.

“Yo where you been, man??” Herc questioned.

They both walked off to their own table, chatting about their day. The two lovebirds still at the booth watched in silence, then shrugged.

“So, it’s time to get to know each other.” Thomas announced. “What’s your favorite color?”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alexander shouted in rage, “HOW DARE YOU?? I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY FRIEND?”

“I don’t see why that has to end.” Burr chuckled.

They were sitting on the floor in Burr’s office, a game of Uno set up between them. There was only one card left in Alex’s hand, but Burr had just placed a draw-4 card down.

“You put down that card to keep me from winning!”

“I put it down to seize the opportunity I saw. I swear, your pride will be the death of us all.”

Alex smacked the deck across the floor and stomped away, rage-quitting what was meant to be a peaceful card game. He was happy that Thomas wasn’t here, but he was starting to wish he wasn’t, either.

Burr sighed. He wondered how Thomas’ date was going.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It turned out that Thomas had ordered a toasted english muffin with black coffee (yes, with dinner) and James had gotten two scrambled eggs on toast. Now they were eating ice cream with 7-up sodas on the side, called “77”s here. No matter what you called it, James was still lactose intolerant. So, Thomas was eating his for him.

“Thomas, you still haven’t finished your dinner.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Angelica said it was your usual, didn’t she?”

“I only order it because I like the diner lingo for it!”

James sighed. Of course that was why.

“Are you having a bad time?” Thomas asked gently.

James looked up and saw a frown. He remembered Thomas’ musical laughter from earlier and his bright smile, and he decided he didn’t like it when Thomas frowned.

“No, no, I am. I’m just getting tired. I have work tomorrow.” he said hurriedly.

“It’s ok if you’re not having a good time, I can take you somewhere more exciting next time?”

“Ok,” he hesitated. “There will be a next time, right?”

“Oh, of course! If you want there to be?” the smile had returned and all was right with the world.

“Of course! I love you.” he added shyly.

Thomas smiled again, then, after courteously wiping his mouth with a napkin, leaned over and planted a kiss on James’ blushing cheek. 

“Next, maybe we’ll visit the grocery store to watch the lobsters fight!” Thomas suggested excitedly.

James busted out laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angelica uses a lot of Boston slang, so if she says something you don't recognize, that's what it is. "Pissa" can be used to describe a good-looking man. "Kehd" is the Boston pronunciation of "kid" and it's often used as a minor term of endearment. "Wicked" = very.


	6. Macaroni Mayhem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas decides to teach James how to cook the best macaroni and cheese ever. It goes as well as you might expect

Thomas’ kitchen was just as bizarre as the man himself. There was a microwave, a stove, a refrigerator, and a dishwasher; but he had stuck stickers and rhinestones to all of them. The dishwasher was utterly flawless, but that did tend to happen when one refuses to use it because “dishes are something you can’t trust machines to handle,” as Thomas put it. There were only a few things in the fridge: four loaves of bread, a jar of that half-jelly-half-peanut-butter stuff, two gallons of milk, butter, and several blocks of cheese. Currently resting on the stove-top was a freshly cleaned pot, ready for use.

Because today was a very special day.

“I can’t believe you’d never had homemade mac and cheese before you met me, Jemmy.” said a shocked Thomas Jefferson.

“Well, it’s always been easier to just eat the kraft brand stuff.” James replied.

Thomas was going to teach James how to make his personal recipe for macaroni and cheese. The one he’d come up with himself. The one Mr. Burr had vaguely warned him about. Although it didn’t taste bad while he was sick, but then he hadn’t been able to smell it and smell makes up most of your sense of taste.

“Ok, Jemmy. Step one: forget kraft. Don’t even think about it. Ever. If you’re getting an urge to think about it, leave the kitchen until you’re done.”

Save him.

“Now, macaroni is a very serious matter, so make sure you follow all my instructions exactly. Got that?”

James nodded as he wrote it down. Thomas had insisted he take notes. He even provided James with a pocket notebook to use for recipes - he could make more than just macaroni, apparently - and James had found his smile and enthusiasm too endearing to turn him down.

So, here he was. Learning how to make macaroni. The eighth wonder of the world, Thomas said. James had always thought that his boyfriend’s arms were the eighth wonder of the world. You learn something new every day.

“Now, assistant macaroni chef Mads - can I call you Mads? - bring me the flour from the pantry!” Thomas clapped his hands together to signal urgency.

It didn’t take long to find the flour since it was one of the only things in the pantry. He made sure to write ‘flour’ in his notebook under the ingredients section of the recipe. How much would he need, six cups? 

“Excellent work! Now, measure out two pounds of that while I grab the milk.”

Oh ok, so just two- wait. Two pounds?? The macaroni was only for the two of them! James couldn’t help but laugh as he searched for a scale. It wasn’t hard to find, either. Soon, there were two pounds of flour in the scale.

Thomas set the milk carton on the counter with a thud. Straightening his ‘kiss the cook’ apron with a smile and a nod, he assessed James’ flour-measuring skills. 

“Perfect! You’re really good at this!” he flashed another blinding grin.

James blushed despite the compliment being about putting flour into a scale. He watched in equal parts fascination and confusion as Thomas set a wine glass on the counter. Now, what?

“Two wine glasses of milk,” he noted James’ dumbfounded expression with a chuckle, “Are you getting this, Jemmy?”

He hurriedly wrote in the notebook. How much milk is a wine glass of milk? Was it the whole glass-full? Was it only the amount one would normally fill wine to? By the time he finished writing, the milk was already being mixed with the flour by his burly boyfriend. The world may never know.

“Guess what we need next!”

“Uhh… eggs?”

“That’s right!!” he kissed James’ forehead, “How many?”

“Um… three?”

“Nope, six!”

“Wait how much macaroni are we making?”

Thomas didn’t hear him, as he was too busy cracking six eggs into the bowl. He was humming Jingle Bells again, to Madison’s dismay.

“And, finally, just a pinch of salt.”

James snorted at that. Thomas was staring at him and he realized that he was waiting for him to put the salt in. Hastily, he did that, then updated his notebook.

“Ok. The dough has to be flattened to a paper-thin thickness.” he handed James the rolling pin.

The dough was thick. It did not want to flatten. Any time James managed to dent it it would spring back up. He turned to Thomas in despair.

“I’ll do that for you, if you want?” he asked with a laugh, and James readily agreed.

Even with his large muscles, it took ten minutes to flatten to the unreasonable thinness the recipe demanded. The water in the pot was almost boiling. Thomas pulled a large… contraption from a cabinet and set it on the counter.

“This is my macaroni machine! You put the dough in here,” he pointed to an opening near the top, “and it comes out shaped like macaroni here!” he pointed to a spout on the other side.

“Wow!” James was relieved they weren’t going to individually cut pieces of macaroni out of the dough with simple knives.

“I designed it myself!” Thomas said proudly.

By the time the machine had finished its job, the water was boiling loudly on the stove. It was time. Thomas dumped all the macaroni in and grabbed five blocks of cheddar cheese from the fridge. He cubed them and dumped them into the pot, making sure James was still taking notes. James noticed with some wonder that he didn’t set a timer.

“How long does it cook for?”

“I don’t know. Wanna play a board game while we wait?”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Thomas shrugged.

“I’ve never needed a timer. I just check on it after a while.” catching James’ expression, he added, “It always works for me! So, didja wanna play a game or…?”

“Well, I guess if you’re sure it’s ok, I’ll play a game.”

“Great!”

Thomas rushed into the other room to start setting up a game. He chose Mouse Trap, which James had never played before and never imagined he would. Shaking his head happily, he joined Thomas in the living room. 

The lid that was supposed to go on the pot with the macaroni was resting, forgotten, on the counter.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Thomas sure does take a lot of time off, huh?” Alex whispered into Burr’s ear.

Burr jumped in surprise. 

“Alex, it’s Sunday. Neither of you have to be here, today.” he answered when he recovered.

“Then why are you here?”

“I’m the manager, I have to make sure everything are ship-shape.”

Burr was just finishing his Sunday inspection of the theater. Wait, hadn’t he locked the doors when he came in?

“Hey, how did you get in here?” 

Alex just shrugged and started scrubbing the counters. Burr was starting to worry about this man’s obvious workaholic disposition, but decided not to press it. It was better to wait for things, and not let others know what you think all the time. 

Alexander was really good at scrubbing those counters, though. Burr put some extra effort into inspecting the soda-machine to show him who’s boss.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The car ride was uncomfortably silent. James was worried about Thomas, who was driving with a pouty expression. He didn’t like when Thomas was upset. It seemed like this time, he’d be that way until they’d gotten their errand done. He hadn’t turned the music on this time, hadn’t even hummed Jingle Bells. 

James could understand that, though. Thomas had been really excited to show James how to cook macaroni and cheese from scratch, and then it had all blown up in his face. 

Literally.

They were both covered in cheese and bits of macaroni. Thomas had insisted that they buy new clothes since the cheese was so thick it would’ve destroyed any washing machine it went into. He had offered to pay, of course, even though James had told him that his tech support job was very good financially. 

They pulled into the theater’s parking lot. They seemed to go there a lot. Thomas brought James to the little clothing store next to the theater. A large sign on the front read “Stallion’s Seams.” Their entrance was announced by the ringing of a bell above the door.

There were clothes everywhere. Lining the walls were fancy dresses and suits, there were stands with shirts and coats across the floor, and even a sales rack at the back. To their left was the owner, who stood to greet them.

“Did you have your first cheese fight as a couple? I don’t judge!” laughed none other than Hercules Mulligan. “Welcome to my boutique!”


	7. What is a "Perfect" Relationship?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's a good story without any conflict?

The scent of strong cologne wafted towards them, as if it rode on the sound of Hercules’ rumbling laughter. It floated across Thomas’ set jaw, rustling his carefully-groomed facial hair. A low grumbling noise akin to a growl rolled in his throat. With his current mood, it very well could have been a growl. Contrary to popular belief, he was not the sort of man who enjoyed being coated in his own macaroni.

“We need new clothes.” he grumbled.

“Ah, not in the mood, today? I know I wouldn’t be, were I in your shoes. But, I am not a cobbler, so I can’t fix that!” Hercules laughed again.

James decided to speak up before things could get out of hand. “Yes, that’s funny, Herc. What sort of clothes do you have?”

Herc’s broad arms lifted in an all-encompassing gesture. “I’ve got everything! Except shoes.”

“Our shoes are fine. Let’s look around, Jemmy.”

At least he wasn’t so upset that he didn’t use the nickname he’d created for James. Somehow, James only felt a shallow reaction to it. He didn’t even blush this time. Odd. 

His eyes roamed to Herc’s muscular arms. How had he never noticed them before? 

“That’s a great idea, Thomas.” he said, shaking his head to clear it.

As he and his boyfriend browsed the many outfits in the Stallions’, feeling the softness of cotton and the roughness of denim, a feeling of unease grew in James’ stomach. He glanced around cautiously, but saw no one. It had been a few weeks since his last anxiety attack, could he be about to experience another? 

No.

As his eyes settled on the large man hunched over a sewing machine on the other side of the store, he knew this was no anxiety attack. His blood ran cold. This wasn’t unease. This was a forbidden feeling which he dared not name.

He found a decent shirt and matching shorts in his size, then he shoved them roughly into Thomas’ arms. The older man was actually knocked back a step. His eyebrows raised in surprise and hurt. 

“I’m not feeling well. I’ll be outside.” James mumbled before Thomas could speak.

Then, he rushed off, leaving the incredulous man to stand alone.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Aaron! Aaron, are you here?” 

John Laurens stared at the yelling woman. His eyes roamed over her knitted brows and her tense features, stopping at what appeared to be a bruise on her collar-bone just barely visible below a layer of makeup. He frowned.

“Ma’am, Burr isn’t here today.” he said.

She jumped, startled. “O-oh, that’s a shame. I needed to speak to him…” she trailed off and looked into the distance.

“Is there something you need? I know him.” 

Her eyes glistened. John straightened stiffly; it wasn’t hard to tell what was bothering her. He just needed her to say it. But was she going to?

“I-It’s n-n-nothing…” her breath hitched. “I-I should g-go-” But it was too late to stop the tears.

Not thinking, John grabbed her shoulders and pulled her in for a hug. It seemed to upset her more, but she didn’t struggle - just tensed even further.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… you seemed like you needed a hug. I’m John, John Laurens. Is this ok?”

After a moment, she sobbed and nodded slightly, moving deeper into the hug. He felt her wedding ring scratch his chest through his shirt. That was all the confirmation John needed. In the midst of wondering how he should proceed from here, he heard her mumble something between sobs.

“What is it?” he whispered, rubbing her upper-back soothingly.

“I-I’m Maria. Maria R-Reynolds.”

Just then, Burr came through the front door.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Customers weren’t allowed to order more than one alcoholic beverage at the Schuyler Diner. Angel said it was their company policy. She’d also said it was only 4 o’clock, but he didn’t care. So here he was, drinking his third can of Coca-Cola. It didn’t have the same effect.

Why did he find Hercules attractive? The thought felt cold in his mind and heavy in his heart. 

He wasn’t supposed to think of anyone that way except Thomas. What if he started cheating on him? Thomas would hate him.

Thomas and Herc were both muscular. They were both funny and fun to be around. Both were full of surprises. Both were kind and caring, too. They were so similar; was this why he liked them both? If so, then how could he be sure he was really in love with either of them? What if he was just attracted to them physically? It could be purely aesthetic appreciation. 

How did he know he liked Thomas? It didn’t feel much different than his thoughts for Hercules.

The familiar sound of a straw sucking at an empty cup met his ears. He turned to shout for another soda when something happy caught his eye. Two somethings, actually.

“Really? An alligator?” laughed a young woman.

“Oui! It’s crazy, no?” chuckled the man seated next to her.

It was Lafayette and some blonde woman. Their hands were folded together under the table, they sat leg-to-leg, leaning towards each other ever-so-slightly. They looked like... lovers?

The woman excused herself to the bathroom and James hurriedly took her spot. Laf raised a brow in surprise, staring in disgust at the cheese-covered shirt James wore.

“James, it’s been awhile, yes? What are you doing here?” he questioned.

James breathed in the scent of a well-cooked steak that rose from the woman’s abandoned meal.

“I thought you were dating Hercules?” he cautiously mumbled.

“No, no, no. Everyone thinks that. The beautiful flower with whom I was just speaking, Adrienne, is my girlfriend. Hercules and I are best friends. Why do you ask?”

James fought back his emotions. Jaw setting, he pretended he didn’t feel a shred of relief knowing that Herc was probably single.

“How do you know when you’re in love?” he ground out before he realized what he was saying. “How do you know it’s not just…. Just a shallow attraction?” he fiddled with his shoelaces.

“Ah, mon ami, are we doubting our heart?” Laf chuckled without humor. 

 

The shorter man took a laboured breath in. Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet those of the man before him. This man he’d only known for a few days. Whom he hardly saw. Who was still so kind to him.

“Adrienne, mon ange, could you give us a minute?” Laf spoke softly to the woman standing behind him.

“Of course, mon amour.” she hummed knowingly, heels clicking on the tile as she walked away.

This man, who was clearly ready to listen to his doubts and help him through them. A new feeling emerged in his heart. He knew this one to be the sweet, innocent, trusting feeling of a deep friendship. Another deep breath in to gather courage, another deep breath out to shed his pride. If he didn’t talk about it now, his relationship may be ruined. With a sickening feeling he realized he’d need to apologize to Thomas for walking out on him.

Laf rested his chin in his hand and his elbow on the table. “Ah, amour.” he sighed dreamily. “How strange it is. How very diverse. How cruel it can be.”

James nodded somberly.

“You are doubting your feelings for Thomas, are you not?”

James nodded again. He felt like he was sinking.

“How do you feel when you see him? Do you get a warm feeling in your gut?”

“I don’t know.” Denial.

“Do you miss him when he’s not around?”

“I don’t know!” Anger.

“When he touches you, do you feel it all around you?”

“I… I don’t… I just don’t know?” Bargaining.

“And when the touch leaves you…”

A sniffle. Depression.

“...can you feel its absence?”

Breathing in a refreshingly deep breath, he finally got it. 

Acceptance. 

“I can feel it. When he’s gone, there’s still a feeling. Like… like he’s still there. Like he’ll always be there.” James said, a new wave of strength reminding him to sit up straight.

Lafayette grinned broadly.

“I don’t feel that way with anyone else. I only feel like that with Thomas, and I still feel it without him! Even when he isn’t around I still lo-” his breathing hitched with joy. 

He stood and smiled broader than he ever had before.

“I lo-”

Lafayette interrupted him with a chuckle. “That is not for me to hear, mon ami.”

James nodded and rushed for the door. He ran right into Thomas, who had apparently been there awhile. He stopped nervously, wondering if he understood.

Thomas beamed at him. “Jemmy, if you were upset you could’ve told me! I’m always here for you, no matter what.”

The smaller man laughed and grabbed him in a tight hug. Thomas shook his head with a sigh and hugged him back. They were both still covered in mac and cheese.

“I love you, Thomas!” he whispered.

“I love you, too, Jemmy.”

They stepped outside, hand in hand, shoulder-to-shoulder (well, almost, if James were taller), and were immediately greeted by flashing lights.

And sirens.

The theater was surrounded by police cars and ambulances.


	8. Happy Birthday!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the fluff! Enjoy :)

Shocked, they stood still.

A police officer was questioning a stone-faced Burr in front of the theater. A young woman was standing alone nearby, wrapped in a blanket. Alex was rushing back and forth in a frenzy. Small groups of people were stopping to watch at a distance, forming an audience of sorts.

James’ eyes fell on two bodies lying in stretchers.

Pulling Thomas along with him, he ran.

Bruises. Blood. Curly, brown hair. Freckles. It was-

“John!” Alex shouted, arriving at the first body’s side.

After a moment, Alex sighed in relief. So John must be alive, but injured. The other body breathed a deep breath in and out, as if to tell James that he was still alive, too. He didn’t recognize him at all. Had John gotten into another fight? 

“Excuse me, what happened?” James asked the nearest paramedic.

“Do you know them?” was the reply.

“Yes, that one is our friend, John Laurens.”

The tall raven-haired paramedic nodded curtly. “Then, you may see him. Only for a moment, though. He needs medical attention.”

Slowly, they approached John. Up close, they could see bandages already in place over several wounds on his arms and chest, and his face and right shoulder were already showing signs of bruising. He looked horrible. Alex glared at Thomas, but John, apparently conscious, mumbled something to him.

“John, what happened? Are you ok?” James asked.

It was Alex who answered. “He got into a fight with some Reynolds guy. I don’t know the details. Burr was there, though.” he paused. “Hey, I know we’re not very close, but I’m going to the hospital with John, and, well… could you ask Burr what happened for me? NOT YOU.” he added that last bit with a glare at Thomas.

“Of course, we - I - want to know what happened, too.” James replied.

The medics shooed them away and pulled the two stretchers into separate ambulances. Alex went with John, of course. James caught sight of Burr talking with the strange woman, and took that as an opportunity to ask him questions. He hurried over.

“Hey, James.” Burr said with a frown. “Why are you covered in macaroni?”

“It’s a long story. What happened to John?”

“He got into a fight.”

“I know, but what happened?”

Burr looked at the woman, who nodded and stood up. 

“I’m Maria. John was helping me with my abusive husband. See, he had a plan-”

“Wait, what?”

“Please don’t interrupt me. He had me call James, my husband, and-”

“WHAT!” Thomas shouted. “That’s my boyfriend’s name!” he patted James Madison on the head to emphasize his point.

“I said, please don’t interrupt me. He had me call James Reynolds, my husband, to come to the theater to pick me up. When he arrived, John confronted him. It turned into a fist-fight. At some point, James Reynolds pulled out a knife. John still won, of course. Burr says he knows a good lawyer who can help me get a divorce, so I’m ok now.”

Both listeners stood in stunned silence.

“Well, it’s nice meeting you, Mr…?”

“James Madison. And this is Thomas Jefferson.”

“Right. Goodbye, Burr!” she turned to Burr.

“Would you like me to drive you home?” he replied.

“No thank you, I can drive myself.”

With that, she left for the parking lot. Burr went into the theater after reminding Thomas to show up on time for work on the 14th. The remaining ambulances and police cars began pulling away. Only Thomas and James remained.

“It’s been quite a long day, hasn’t it, Jemmy?” Thomas hummed.

“Yeah…”

“We should pay for those clothes and head home. I’m ready for bed already.”

James chuckled and agreed, deciding to call Alex after he ate dinner.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MARCH 14.

Beep, beep, beep!

Thomas rolled over in bed. Groaning sleepily as he hit snooze on his alarm clock. 6:45. He didn’t have to show up to work until 8 thanks to Alex’s apparent workaholic nature, but that wasn’t all he had planned for today.

Pushing himself up out of his pink bed into the right side of the hallway, he felt a rush of excitement. Today was Jemmy’s birthday! 

He pulled a carefully wrapped package out from its hiding place under his bed. It smelled like new wrapping paper, dressed up like a gift for royalty. For a moment he wondered if he’d used too much ribbon, then decided that that simply wasn’t possible. Jemmy had told him his favorite color was dark blue. This is why Thomas used blue wrapping paper, blue ribbons, blue glitter, and a blue card for his gift. Smiling, he set the package down and got dressed in his new clothes. Good thing pink velvet shirts had been on sale at Herc’s clothing store.

One microwaved lunchable later, he was ready to take on the day. A small cloud of nervousness rose around him as he wondered if Jemmy would like his gift. It took him days to get it set up perfectly, so he really, really, really hoped he would.

He rushed on over to the theater to get ready.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

James sighed. He’d found another note in his pocket that morning.

“Dear, Jemmy.

Please meet me at the Royal Theater at 10 o’clock sharp!

Yours truly, Thomas~~”

It was 9 o’clock now. Luckily, he didn’t have work today. If he started getting ready now, he would be able to get there a few minutes early. His father used to tell him that if he wasn’t fifteen minutes early, he was late. He was proud to continue this tradition in his honor. That was how he remembered his father.

His mother would always make sure he had a nice cake for his birthday every year. She still liked to remind him to buy himself a cake. He knew if he didn’t, she would. He smiled fondly.

Flavorful smells of eggs and bacon hit his nostrils as he ate his breakfast. 

Then, it was time to go to the theater.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Burr, can you stand outside in case Jemmy shows up early?” 

Burr stared at Thomas sternly. “Why?”

“Because you’re always unnecessarily hiding things from everyone, so you’re the best for the job of keeping Jemmy out and clueless while I put the finishing touches on the decorations.”

“You already convinced me to let you have his party here in my establishment, I’m not going to stand outside waiting for him.”

The whole lobby was full of decorations. Blue ribbons criss-crossed the ceiling, balloons were tied to every surface available, and half of the people there sparkling from the glitter that filled the room. They didn’t seem to mind, however, and the kids all wanted to take balloons home. Alex had been all too happy to take some down to give them.

“Alright, kids, don’t let the scary balloon man take those away from, you, ok?” he’d tell them, gesturing at Thomas.

Thomas couldn’t understand why his balloons seemed to be disappearing or why all the kids were avoiding him. But he did know that he had to get the decorations up before Jemmy got there or the surprise would be ruined.

“Please?” he pouted.

Burr grumbled. “Well… fine. But you have to clean this all up on your own afterwards.”

“Deal!”

Burr went to take his position outside. Immediately upon exiting the building, he saw James. Great. Of course he was fifteen minutes early.

“Hello, James.”

“Hello, Burr.” he made to enter the theater, but Burr blocked him. “What are you doing?”

“Standing.”

“No, I mean why are you blocking the entrance?” after Burr shrugged in response, James continued. “What’s going on in there?”

“Not much, honestly.”

James’ brow furrowed and he clenched his fists. Burr stood his ground. Before either of them could do anything further, a loud Bang! came from inside. Burr groaned and swung the door open. James hurriedly followed after, shoving past a crowd of fleeing people.

“What the-? Thomas!” Burr shouted angrily.

The walls were coated in a thick layer of frosting. Thomas and Alex were wrestling on the floor. Glitter and popped balloons were everywhere. A banner saying “Happy Birthday” was hanging off the counter, partially obscured by ruined streamers. A broken cardboard box lay on a table, surrounded by shredded wrapping paper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James Madison's actual birthday was March 14th, so I really wanted to include it in the fic!


	9. Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things cool off a bit from the recent chaos, Alex learns to keep his mouth shut - not that he'll ever be able to - and some sweet reminiscences. Burr should fire Thomas, honestly

Thomas and Alex had already explained what had happened three times, but since they both had different versions of the story it was hard to understand. Not to mention that they were both shouting over each other the whole time anyone tried to say anything. Neither Burr nor James were any closer to understanding the situation.

“Ok, we’ll try something new.” Burr said, pulling a broken cane out of nowhere. “Here, this is the Talking Stick. Whoever is holding the stick gets to speak. If you do not have the stick and you’re not me, then you can’t speak.” 

Alexander raised his hand politely. Burr handed him the stick.

“Where the heck did you even get this?” he asked.

Burr gave him a look and snatched the stick back. Maintaining eye contact, he wiped the frosting off of it with one of Thomas’ hankies.

Thomas violently waved his hand around in the air. He was given the stick.

“Ok, so; there I was, minding my own business, when this overcooked flapjack starts giving all my balloons to small children while planting the seed of mistrust in them-”

As he droned on and on and on, the listeners gradually zoned out with varying speeds. James was the last one still paying attention by the time Thomas got to the climax of his story.

“-so of course my only reasonable option was to sock him in his thirsty mouth. That’s another thing! You’d’a thought there was a drought going on with the desperacy he’s always displaying-”

Alex snatched the stick away with a shout: “CAN WE DISCUSS PERSONAL FLAWS LATER?”

Thomas grabbed the stick and pulled. “Oh are you afraid you’ll lose your job if Burr finds out what you really are!?”

“No, I just know we don’t have enough time for me to point out all of your wrong-doings, evil-doer!”

“Take that back, yoU CURSED PIECE OF-”

“GENTLEMEN.” Burr shouted and hit them both over the head with The Talking Stick.

“How about we have Alex’s side of the story, now?” James suggested, ignoring Thomas’ expression of betrayal.

Thomas mumbled something as Alex took the stick from Burr. It sounded like… “Oh I’ll bet he’d love to have the stick”? What’s that supposed to mean?

…Oh, um… 

“Thomas was turning our Royal Theater into birthday planet, so I was restoring the theater’s pride by handing out balloons to the kids. I don’t know what he means by the ‘seeds of mistrust’,” he scoffed, “but I do know that he left the birthday gift unattended. Those kids were really curious and started unwrapping it. He freaked out, the kids screamed, I rushed in to save them, and the whole party inevitably blew up in his face.Literally. According to Herc, that sort of thing happens to Thomas a lot - yeah he told me about the macaroni incident - so he was upset. But he had no reason to attack me and scare away our valued patrons!”

He took a deep breath, then, obviously satisfied with his speech, handed the stick back to Burr.

“Is that what happened?” Burr turned to Thomas.

His response was just a shrug and a scowl. That told them all they needed to know. James reached for the stick.

“Was this for me?” he gestured to what remained of the birthday party.

Thomas sniffled a bit and nodded.

“Well, I do appreciate the thought…” 

“I got you a gift, but it’s ruined.”

“You don’t have the stick.” Alex put in.

“Alex clean up this mess, then get back to work.” Burr patted him on the shoulder.

“What??” But Burr was already retreating to his office.

Thomas picked up a tiny, frosting-coated box from the ground and stuck it in his pocket. He sighed, moving over to a semi-clean chair nearby to sink into. He put his head in his hands.

“Thomas…” James moved to his side.

Searching for a way to comfort his boyfriend, he did all he could think of at the moment. Plopping down into his lap, he put his arms around him and nuzzled his neck. His face heated up, but he didn’t stop. Thomas kissed his forehead gently.

“Jemmy, I’m sorry.”

James just rubbed his back soothingly.

“I really wanted this party to turn out nice for you..” his voice was tired and sad. “I can still say ‘Happy Birthday’, but that’s not much with this mess around you.”

“It’s all I need to hear, Jeffie.”

They nuzzled closer together, content to stay like that for as long as they could. The broom scraped the ground and kicked up cake fumes as Alex aggressively swept the floor, the glitter-dust swirled romantically in the air around them. Thomas noticed that Jemmy had a single freckle hiding on his cheek, small and dark enough that you couldn’t see it unless you looked really closely…

He chuckled. James shifted on top of him.

“What’s so funny?”

“Did you just call me ‘Jeffie’?”

James blushed darker than darkness itself.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three solid colors made up the sunset before them. Red. Blue. Purple. Seated on the roof of Thomas’s cube car, they had the perfect view. The breeze blew around the two cuddling figures, but not even the tiny, contented sigh it made could get between them. Not metaphorically, because they’d grown too close in the past few months of being together. Not physically, because their kisses were too deep.

James broke away with a giggle.

“What, what is it?” Thomas whispered sleepily.

“Remember my birthday party?”

The taller man frowned. “Yeah… how could I forget?”

A small weight pushed into his chest as Jemmy leaned against him.

“Do you remember when we went on a double date with Alex and John?”

“Oh, when John was fresh out of the hospital?” James laughed. “And he still had the cast on his arm?”

“Yeah! We were sure he’d broken out. I still think that’s the case - early release my a-”

“Oh, oh, remember the macaroni incident?”

“Which one? There were at least seven...”

“Then there was that stunt you pulled on Independence Day-”

“Oh, Burr’s face when that firework went off right next to him was worth every second I spent cleaning up afterwards!”

“No, no, I meant when you and Alex were throwing those blast fireworks at each other.”

A flock of birds flew away in terror as their conversation continued, their laughter only growing in volume. Especially when Thomas started tickling James.

“Stop! S-stop!” he laughed and pushed him playfully.

“Not until you tell me who your favorite Macaroni Man is?”

“Y-you’re the o-only Macaroni Man!” he gasped out around giggles. “N-no one e-else would call th-themsleves that!”

“Come on! Who is it?”

“Y-you! It’s you!” 

Thomas let him go and they fell together, soft lips on soft lips. The sun was completely hidden below the horizon by the time they were ready to head home. Their hearts were full of a light warmth, a feeling they were used to having whenever they were near each other.

“So…” Thomas breathed out.

“So…?” James asked.

“When are we gonna meet each other’s family? I mean… since we are dating and all…?”

The smaller man leaned back in his chair with a yawn. He’d already thought this through, thankfully.

“I was thinking we could have our families get together on Thanksgiving, or Christmas?”

“Hmm…” Thomas yawned. “Yeah… that’s perfect.”

A sweet silence accompanied them for the rest of the ride home.


	10. Let's Wrap This Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter, set in the Christmas season. I thought of the title last-minute and I just think I'm funny lol. Anyway, enough about me! Let's meet their families!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because this is the last chapter, I made it extra long for you! I'm so glad you've all enjoyed this so much!! I'd like to thank you all for reading uwu

James slid the soft red and green tablecloth over the long wooden table. Methodically, he fiddled with the edges to make sure they were on straight. A frown creased his features as he realized what he was doing. His mother was very traditional. Conservative, actually. Of course she would love for that tablecloth to be straight. Bet she’d like a lot of things to be straight. 

 

Walking away from the tablecloth, which he’d left unfixed, he headed for the scented candles. Then threw them away. Who needs cookie scented candles when you were going to be baking enough sugar cookies for two large families? Not this Madison, nor any Madison before him. His father had made sure he knew how to cook a batch of steamy, fluffy, thick sugar cookies. A tradition he proudly carried out while wearing one of Thomas’ aprons.

 

His apartment was very small, but he knew they would all fit. It would be a very intimate setting. Maybe he would sit on Thomas’ lap again? Thomas would probably want him to.

 

Ding!

 

The cookies weren’t ready, yet. That was the doorbell. James rushed to the door, hoping Thomas had showed up early so he could explain some things. He swung the door open.

 

“Hello, James. You’ve redecorated, I see?” It was his mother.

 

“Yes, Mom. Do you like it?” he asked nervously.

 

“Oh, I do! It’s so lovely.” she glanced around approvingly before glancing with an equal opposite expression at James’ clothes. “Oh, you’re wearing pink?”

 

“Y-yeah, I am.”

 

Three of his younger siblings rushed in past him, followed slowly by his older sister, Frances. 

 

Ding!

 

Now, that was the oven timer. Briefly, he wondered if it was a bad thing to have a doorbell that sounds the same as the oven timer. Then he decided that that was unnecessary to worry about. 

 

The warm blast of home baking flooded the apartment as soon as he opened the oven door. The cookies looked perfect. Christmas trees and gingerbread men for this batch. The next batch would be candy canes and presents; always a favorite for his youngest siblings. Hopefully Thomas’, too. He did say he had a lot of siblings, as well.

 

Ding!

 

That couldn’t be the oven, since he was actively shoving two pans of cookie dough into it. Thomas and his family must be here! Swinging the door open with a hearty “Welcome!”, he was quickly disappointed. Well, sort of.

 

“Ah, you must be Jemmy!” a tall, older woman wrapped her arms around James tightly. “Tommy has told us so much about you! I’m Jane.”

 

He snorted at the nickname, but blamed it on allergies. A tall, stern man looked him over quickly, then nodded with a grin hidden in his eyes. That must be Thomas’ father.

 

“Yes, that’s me, it’s nice to meet you.” he stuck out his hand awkwardly.

Thomas’ father rolled his eyes and pulled James in for a stiff - but warm - hug. “I’m Peter. Nice to meet you, finally.”

 

“Now, Peter, they may have had their reasons for keeping us away from them for so long.”

 

“I’m sure they appreciate your passive aggression a lot better than my bluntness.”

 

“Don’t listen to him, he’s such a grumpy-kins sometimes. Oh, is that your family? Hello!”

 

James ran for the kitchen. He knew this would be the moment where it all went downhill. There was no way Jane would keep from giving away the gayness of his relationship. Thomas wasn’t even here, yet. Where could he be?

 

“James, dear!” called his mother.

 

Oh, no.

 

“Yes?” he asked, tentatively poking his head around the corner.

 

“What’s this about a relationship? Do you have a girlfriend?” 

 

He froze as all coherent thought was chased away by horror. 

 

“Oh, of course he does, silly. He’s dating our s-”

 

“S-S-Sally!” silence fell, all heads turned to James. “My girlfriend! Her name is Sally! This is her family. S-she’s not here, yet.”

 

Glancing around helplessly, he knew his mother wasn’t buying it. Even if she did, Jane would sell him out the next time she opened her mouth, anyway. Peter stood up.

 

“Yeah, Sally said she’d be late. Sorry, Mrs…?”

 

“Madison. Eleanor Madison.”

 

“Right. She’s probably still shopping.”

 

“It’s Christmas Eve.”

 

“Have you never done last-minute shopping, Eleanor?”

 

With that, the conversation slowly turned away. Now he truly understood why many people would take the name ‘Peter’ when they became Pope.

 

Ding!

 

Thank goodness. That was definitely Thomas, since it wasn’t the cookies.

 

“Hey, James!” said Hercules Mulligan. “Mind if I stay here until Laf gets back?”

 

“O-of course you can stay.”

 

No problem. Great. The more the merrier. Excellent. As Herc nodded his thanks and stepped through the door, he realized with horror that when Laf got here they would probably kiss. As long as things didn’t get any worse.

 

Ding!

 

Thomas?! No, it was the cookies. He still felt disappointed. His head hung low as he finished preparing the cookies. They were perfect, at least. Pouting, he tasted one. Oh yeah. These were perfect.

 

“With a name like that, it’s impossible to be unpopular!” his mother’s laughter reached his ears from the other room.

 

What were they talking about?

 

“What, Hercules? Yeah, my parents knew how to name me!”

 

Oh no.

 

“You certainly look like a Hercules. You can’t possibly be single, can you?”

 

James hurried into the living room with a plate of ~~distractions~~  cookies. 

 

“People say that all the time. I am single, though.”

 

Oh, right. Herc and Laf were just friends. Lafayette had Adrienne. For once, he was glad he was wrong.

 

“Cookies are ready!!” he sang jovially.

 

While everyone was clambering for cookies, the doorbell sounded yet again. James was sure it was Alex and John who would then french kiss in front of his mother. Then, they’d all definitely start a fight. Even though John had long since recovered from the fight with Mr. Reynolds, James wasn’t so sure he could take his mother when she was triggered. Or it could just be Lafayette, looking for Hercules.

 

He held his breath as he pulled open the door. The sight was worse than he’d imagined.

 

There stood Thomas, dripping wet, bruised, and covered in glitter.

 

“Hey, Jemmy, how’s it going?” he laughed breathily. “Am I on time?”

 

“You’re soaking!! Are you ok? What happened?” James demanded, lip trembling and brow furrowed.

 

“Hoo, boy, there’s a story…”

 

“Oh, I see you’ve invited your best friend?”

 

James jumped and spun around at his mother’s voice. She was smiling, looking from him to Thomas and back. Her hands clasped innocently in front of her.

 

“What? No, no, no. Jemmy and I are dating!” Thomas laughed and pulled her into a tight hug. “You must be his mother! Just as beautiful as I imagined.”

 

James’ jaw dropped. His blood ran cold as he caught his mom’s eye over Thomas’ shoulder. Did he actually not pick up on his mother’s true meaning? Oh gosh he was wearing his pink velvet suit and coat and covered in rainbow glitter. Was his life a sadistic joke?

 

“I thought you were dating Sally?” Eleanor said.

 

Just because she wasn’t trying to be horrible didn’t mean she wasn’t being horrible. From experience, he knew that she actually meant well. She thought she was helping him ‘fix’ himself. That if she ruined their relationship he would ‘decide to be hetero’. That doesn’t mean she should be so disrespectful. That doesn’t mean it didn’t still hurt.

 

“Sally? No way! My name is Thomas!”

 

“Oh, Thomas, Eleanor didn’t know James was gay!” Jane laughed and Thomas raised a brow. “Your father told me. He’s good at reading the atmosphere.” she added with a hushed tone.

 

James felt his face heat up and his eyes sting a bit as everyone stared at him.

 

“Mom, don’t you love James?” his older sister Frances spoke up. 

 

“Of course I do! Why would you ask me that?” she looked genuinely hurt.

 

“You’re not being respectful to him.”

 

“How am I not being respectful? He did say he was dating a girl called Sally.”

 

“Have you ever been respectful to him?” she stood in a fighter’s stance; legs spread, arms up and ready - though they were crossed in this instance, because this was a battle of words, not fists.

 

“Of course! Why, when he was a sweet little boy I would treat him just the same as everyone else.”

 

A smile cracked Frances’ lips. “Ah, so you admit that you don’t treat him the same way anymore? Ever since you picked up on the signs-”

 

“Now, listen here, young lady-”

 

“You want me to respect your authority?” she took a step forward.

 

“I want you to stop being a brat!” Eleanor held her ground.

 

James took a deep breath in. He often had a front row seat to Frances’ arguments, so he knew how it always went. Frances would use sweet, passive words; an empty tone, and strong body language. She once told him it was because witnesses hear her words, her opponent would hear her tone, and everyone would respond to her body language. An expert of wit and catching someone in their own words, no wonder she was a lawyer. Arguing was a game to her, and, if it got boring, she would simply forfeit. It didn’t matter to her. Except, in very public cases like this, when she was fighting for something. 

 

“So, when you disrespect James, are you being a brat?”

 

They were very different in that moment. She stood tall and firm, while Eleanor was starting to shrink back. Frances was strong and composed, while Eleanor was breathing a little heavier and  her features were beginning to redden. That’s how Frances sees the world. Everyone else can only see two people arguing. Frances is smiling. Everyone else is uncomfortable.

 

“How dare you?”

 

“You’re running out of comebacks.”

 

“Young lady-”

 

“I identify as male, thank you very much. And my name is Francis, with an ‘i’.” a casual tone replaced her - his - blank one, it was almost over.

 

Their audience gasped, but Eleanor visibly regained her composure.

 

“Sit back down, then, sir. I think that your little show of male dominance is over.”

 

A huge grin creased Francis’ face. “See that? Suddenly, you’re treating me like a lesser being. Because suddenly, I’m not the straight cisgendered girl you thought you were raising.” she sat down, knowing she’d won.

 

Everyone [else] looked everywhere but at each other. James grabbed Thomas’ hand. It felt like hours later when the silence was finally broken.

 

“God bless us, everyone!” Hercules laughed, completely unaffected by the tense atmosphere.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

James stumbled after Thomas. 

 

“Shhh!!” he mumbled.

 

They stepped around the crowds of sleeping people, now including Lafayette and Adrienne. Thomas almost tripped on them in his rush to the tree. They’d all decorated it last night, with James’ youngest sibling William - assisted by Francis - putting the star on top. Thomas had, predictably, strung dried macaroni on nine foot strings and hung those on the trees. There was still multicolored glitter all over the ground from the night before.

 

“What are we doing?” James whispered.

 

“Opening the first present of Christmas!” Thomas replied with his signature smile.

 

He lifted a small box wrapped in navy blue paper, complete with a little bow on the top. Taking a deep breath, he handed it to James.

 

“Jeffie, it’s only 12:01 a.m.” he breathed out sleepily.

 

“I couldn’t wait any longer.” he had a peculiar look on his face. “Go on, Jemmy! Open it!!” 

 

Sighing, he pulled the wrapping paper off. The ribbons floated softly to the ground, coiling in a pile next to his feet. Soon after came the paper itself. All that remained was a deep blue velvet box. James opened it. Gasping, he caught sight of the tiny, glittery, blue gem atop an elegant little ring. He looked up and saw Thomas getting down on one knee, his eyes soft and wide.

 

“James Madison, my assistant macaroni chef, the light of my life, my Jemmy.” James’ eyes widened as he realized what was going on. “I got the ring with the aquamarine on it, because I read that that’s the March birthstone. ’Cause I wanted to propose on your birthday. I just, I just couldn’t, though. It was just too soon and there was so much frosting and-” 

 

He took a deep breath, then continued, staring into James’ eyes. 

 

“I love you so much. You mean more to me than all the macaroni in the world. I really mean that, you know. W-will you… um… will y-you m-marry me?”

 

Never before had James seen Thomas this way. The lights of the tree glimmered over his features, the shading accentuating his muscular arms and the lighting bringing out his beautiful brown eyes. The glitter still covering him caused the light to dance for them. A smile wide enough to put the Grand Canyon to shame parted his lips. One deep breath away, his response came at the speed of excitement.

  
“Yes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: When someone becomes Pope, they pick a new name. That's why the Pope always has such a fitting name for their job. 
> 
> James Madison irl had a brother called Francis and a sister called Frances and basically one set of parents' uncreativity is a nerdy writer's inspiration! I kinda just went all oc on her personality though.


End file.
